


We can turn the world to gold

by Silverdancer



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverdancer/pseuds/Silverdancer
Summary: Bora takes Handong on a vacation. Handong takes Bora home.





	We can turn the world to gold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for GG Jukebox Round 1, inspired by "Run away with me" by Carly Rae Jepsen. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When their managers tell them about the week-long vacation, their first instinct is to cheer, happy and louder than it’s appropriate for an office. Their managers smile even as they try to keep their happiness quiet, the infinite possibilities of a week of rest ahead of them making the chaos unavoidable.

It’s all they talk about during dinner that night, take-out boxes spread around the living room, splurging for the first time in a while. 

“I think I am going to sleep,” Gahyeon says, reaching for a piece of chicken. “All week. Just sleep and eat and sleep some more.”

“I can’t wait to play that new game I bought,” Yoohyeon says, handing Gahyeon the entire box of chicken. “I don’t know if I’ll play the whole week, but it’s going to be so nice to be able to play without having to look at the time. And read that book that unnie recommended!”

All of them share their plans, big and different, just like all of them are. Handong listens to all of them, so fascinated that she almost missed eating dinner. They ordered for about twenty people but the food disappears before midnight strikes, and with that, all of them scatter to their rooms, getting ready for the night.

“What about you, Dong-ah?” Bora asks later when they are alone, finishing dinner clean up as the rest of the girls get ready for bed. “What are your dream plans for the vacation?”

Handong thinks about it for a bit, the prospect of resting very tempting but not really appealing to her. 

“I don’t know,” she confesses, picking up the last box, emptying the remains on the trash. Bora comes behind her, her own boxes properly folded.

“You don’t need to commit to it,” she insists, resting against the kitchen counter. “I am pretty sure Gahyeon is not going to rest for more than a day and a half, the rest of her vacation is probably going to be meeting up with her school friends and go shopping with them, for example.”

There’s a thought on the back of Handong’s mind, pressing, and she doesn’t think she’s ready to say it but Bora is there, offering a comforting, safe space to say what’s really on her mind. So Handong considers.

“I think,” she says, finally, “I would like to go home.”

*

“So, about that vacation,” Bora says, out of the blue. Handong is almost sure she has misheard it, focused on kissing the space along her jawline. “I have a surprise for you.”

Handong hums, not really up to talking about vacations right now, more intent on the gasp that she wrangles out of Bora when she kisses behind her ear instead. She likes hearing it, so much, but Bora sounds so excited. Handong can’t help it. She’s not interested in vacations, but she will always be interested in Bora.

“Surprise?” 

“Well, for now it’s an idea for a surprise but,” she laughs, nervous, and Handong’s hand finds Bora’s without even thinking about it. “You know how I wanted to travel during our vacation, right? Go somewhere new?” Handong nods, while Bora’s pitch get higher. “So I was thinking… I have never been to Wuhan.”

Handong hears her, sees her lips move a she says the words, but it still takes a couple of seconds for her brain to catch up. 

“What?” she stammers, still not quite sure she heard correctly. The excited glint in Bora’s eyes is contagious though and she can’t help the small smile sneaking in.

“We could go there, you could show me around and visit your family, of course!” Bora continues, like she has planned something already, despite her earlier words. The idea sounds so tempting when put right in front of her like that. 

The silence stretches, Handong unsure with what to say. She watches Bora wait patiently for her reaction and that helps a little somehow.

“Are you serious?” is what comes out finally, the myriad of thoughts verbalized in such a simple question. Bora’s posture relaxes, her laugh high and bright.

“Of course I am!” she says when she regains her breath, only to keep laughing at Handong’s shocked face. It’s not really Handong’s fault that she gets Bora close and kisses the laugh out of her lips for that.

No one can blame her for it.

*

Going back home after so long.

Going on a trip with Bora.

_Taking Bora home_

That vacation can’t come quickly enough.

***

Before Handong realizes it they are already in the dorm’s entryway, suitcases ready and saying goodbye to the rest of the group.

Siyeon and Gahyeon ask them for snacks instead of souvenirs, while Yoohyeon asks for pretty things to add to her wall.

“Yah,” Bora calls out, hitting Yoohyeon playfully on the arm and making all of them laugh, “you know we need to carry all of this back, right? We are going to need an extra suitcase for this if you keep this up!”

Minji hugs them last, adding a “send us a message when you land” in her best mother voice, making both of them laugh before rushing them out. “You don’t want to miss your plane!”

*

It feels weird, traveling without a manager. Having to keep up with tickets and schedules and suitcases themselves makes the experience so much different even if they have taken planes more times than they can count on these past months. So much that finally finding their seats on the plane, and actually sitting on them, feels like some kind of reward.

It’s then when it dawns. No matter that they have been preparing this for weeks, no matter the hours they have spent leading their suitcases. It’s this, sitting beside Bora on the airplane, that makes the trip actually feel real for the first time. 

Bora’s hand sneaking to hold Handong’s helps, too.

*

The wait for the luggage is shorter than Handong is ready for, their suitcases coming in first and completely unscathed. Bora picks hers up happily and Handong follows her when she leads the way outside. Somehow, the fact that her parents had offered to pick them up at the airport when she told them she was visiting didn’t make her think that it would also mean her parents were going to meet _Bora_ in person.

So of course, as soon as that dawns on her, right after the plane lands, she dreads coming outside.

She knows Bora noticed, saw the way she was looking curiously at her from her side of the immigration queue, so Handong isn't all that surprised when Bora stops her from moving forward once she’s out of the line.

"Everything okay?" 

"Yeah," Handong nods, looking at Bora. Making sure she knows she’s saying the truth. "I am just nervous, you know?" 

"Because of your parents? Do you think they will say something?" _About me_, she doesn’t say. Handong feels guilty, almost, but she’s not wrong and that almost feels worse.

"They don't know," Handong mutters. Bora nods, making a gesture, agreeing to it. It's not an easy topic to talk about, especially when you live the way they do. 

"I can get there in a cab if you prefer it that way," Bora offers, but Handong can't refuse quickly enough, shaking her head, squeezing her hand softly.

How did she get so lucky, she doesn't know. "It's not that," she says, "It's been a while since I have seen them, right?" Bora nods, "I talked to my sister when planning for the arrival and I did mention to her that we were not going to stay with them, but I am not sure how well my parents are going to take it.”

Bora stays quiet for a while, both hands cradling Handong’s. “It’s going to be fine. They are going to be so happy to see you, Dong-ah.”

Handong nods.

“And besides, I will be with you. That’s gotta count for something, right?” 

Handong can’t help but agree.

*

The moment Handong sees her parents, seconds before they see her, she stops in her tracks.

“Is that them?”

Handong nods. Bora takes the suitcase from her and pushes her in their direction.

“Then go! I’ll catch up in a bit.”

Handong runs.

*

Of course, Bora is right. Her parents are over the moon seeing her, hugging her for minutes at a time and welcoming Bora warmly, with Handong as a translator between them. Her mother does make a couple of comments about it, to her father, loud enough for Handong to hear. She pretends not to, focusing on Bora using Handong's phone to text the rest of the group to tell them they arrived safely. It's the only one with signal here anyway.

Bora laughs at something they say and shows the screen to Handong. The group chat is open and she reads the latest messages.

**Gahyeon**  
We want a picture, unnie!

**Yoohyeon**  
Yes, yes, picture!! We need to make sure you didn't run off with Dongdong's phone!! 

Handong laughs too, giving the phone back to Bora and scooting close to Bora's seat as she opens the camera on the phone.

It's easy to get carried away, having fun on their own, changing filters and poses every few pictures, and they laugh as they look at the results together, deciding which one to send.

"I should change my phone background soon," Handong says scrolling through the pictures, trying to decide which one to send, hovering over one of the pictures where Bora looks cuter. 

Bora nudges her with her elbow playfully, making Handong look at her, and wiggles her eyebrows. "I could help," dropping her voice dramatically, making Handong laugh.

"Dear," her mother calls Handong from the front seat. Handong perks up and looks at Bora, who nods at her, smiling, her limited Chinese knowledge being enough. Handong smiles back and moves over to be closer to speak with her mother.

“You’re going to visit, right?” her mother says when she gets within earshot. Handong feels bad then. Because she hadn’t planned to. Because she has missed her parents very much and she knows they have missed her too. There’s still time to change that. She turns around to ask Bora but she’s looking at the phone, focused. They can talk about it later.

“Of course, mom,” she promises, leaning forward and kissing her mother’s cheek. “I wouldn’t come all the way here and not visit at least.”

She’s trying not to feel guilty for the partial lie, wondering if it really counts as a lie if she plans on fulfilling it, when she feels Bora’s hand pulling her sleeve, asking for attention. 

“Dong-ah,” Bora calls, alarming Handong. “Dong-ah, we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” Handong turns around and looks at Bora. If her voice wasn’t enough of a hint, her whole face confirms that something really bad is going on.

“The owner of the apartment just messaged us,” she hands Handong her phone, the conversation still on screen. Handong scrolls over, but doesn’t read, looking back at Bora. “Since the text was in Chinese, I translated it to see if it was important… and it says that we can’t go to the apartment today.”

“What?” Handong exclaims, her voice coming out higher than intended. She looks at her phone now, reading properly, and there it is, the apartment owner’s message. “Apparently something broke and the whole place is flooded. They are not able to get anyone to fix it until tomorrow and the place is not… livable. For now.” 

“Oh no,” Bora whines, “what are we going to do? Do you think we can find a hotel to stay?” 

“What’s wrong, dear?” her mother asks Handong. They have been speaking in Korean this whole time but their faces probably said enough. 

Handong shares a look with Bora. “She’s asking what’s wrong.” 

Bora stays quiet but gets closer to Handong. And nods. 

Handong repeats the same thing she told Bora, handing her phone to her mother, so she can read the message herself. Her mother sighs and pats her hand when she gives Handong her phone back. However, when Handong looks at her, she’s smiling at her dad. And her dad, who hasn’t said a word yet, smiles back and nods. 

“I’m sorry that this happened, but I think we might have a solution.”

***

“Are you sure you’re okay with us staying here?”

It is Bora who, surprisingly, asks the question. Her fingers are carding through Handong’s hair. The first moments of true peace and quiet since they landed, and Handong feels like she could stay here forever, in her old room, surrounded by everything that made her feel safe and comfortable during her childhood, and in Bora’s arms, the very place that she feels safest these days.

She can’t help but think of how happy her parents looked when their accommodation got ruined, how much tighter her mother hugged her when they got home. She was happy they were happy, and obviously glad that they did not have to spend extra money they did not have on an accommodation that was definitely going to be more expensive than the one they had booked.

But she can’t stop thinking about the way Bora had introduced herself as a friend, as a group mate, to her parents. About the fact that staying here would mean that moments like this would be confined only to this room, and only if they were careful. 

Handong sits up then, dislodging the hand on her head. Looks at Bora’s face, searching for any clue that might signal her discomfort. No amount of money saved would be worth it if it meant Bora wasn’t happy with it. Bora tilts her head, questioning, still waiting on an answer. 

She doesn’t know how to word this, not in a way that would feel right in Korean, not in a way that wouldn’t make her feel silly, so she just leans forward. She knows Bora would try to understand, but Handong’s tired and doesn’t feel like explaining now. Bora's warm presence sounds like the better alternative, so that's what she picks.

(She suspects it's something she does to a fault, picking Bora time and time again. Bora has yet to call her out on it)

“I am if you are.”

It feels unfair to let her make the final decision. But Handong wouldn't be able to stay, not if Bora doesn't want to. It's not her decision to make. 

Bora's hand finds her on the comforter around the same time her lips find Handong's cheek. Quick and playful, Bora getting up right after. Handong lets herself fall on the bed dramatically, missing the tender moment gone but enjoying Bora's silhouette against the sun immensely.

"We're staying then," she sounds cheerful as she turns around and kneels in front of her suitcase, laying it down in one swift movement. 

The posters in the ceiling of the idols she liked back then stare at Handong, and Handong stares back at them, daring them to judge her. The sound of clothes rustling is the only warning Handong gets before a t-shirt lands on her face.

"And you know what," Bora says, in between her laugh, arms already inside the new shirt she's picked from the suitcase. Handong is too busy sitting up, spluttering, to be able to guess. "I can't wait to see baby pictures of you."

***

The morning feels like a dream when Handong opens her eyes, sleepy and tired still, finding herself tangled in Bora's arms, her face hidden against Handong’s neck. The way Bora’s breath tickles her skin the only thing that convinces her that this is not a dream.

It feels so warm and comfortable that Handong wants to keep sleeping, but the feeling is so new, waking up beside her, that she feels reluctant to give this up. Despite living together, despite spending most of their waking time together, the dorm life actually makes it really hard for them to spend the night together, and even more to spend the night together _alone_.

"Go back to sleep, Dong-ah," the words are mouthed against her neck, making her feel them right through her very soul more than she can actually hear them. 

The words morph into a kiss, her ear tingling with the near touch.

"Do you really want me to sleep after that?" she means to sound accusing. But the most her body does for her is a mix of strangled and sleepy that’s closer to pitiful than teasing. It also earns her Bora's quiet laugh, low and breathy, against her skin.

At least until Bora decides to move, untangling herself slightly. Just enough to be able to put her head against the pillow, directly in front of Handong, and blessing her with the unfiltered view of her sleepy face and her tangled hair. 

It's probably worrying how all that just makes Handong want to lean close and kiss her silly.

"It's too early to get up," Bora reaches out, holding Handong's hands as she speaks, "and we are still at your parents."

It takes a little while for the meaning to settle in, the hand that's now on Handong's hip feeling a little too brave after that statement, but not quite unwelcome.

There's a finger that slips inside her shirt despite what Bora just said and Handong feels brave.

Brave enough to move closer, her nose brushing against Bora's, stealing a quick kiss from her lips before Bora has time to react. Then of course she needs to muffle Bora's reaction with another kiss right after that. It's not that she's complaining, either.

Their morning kisses are short and tight lipped, more playful than sensual. Still, when Handong goes back to her side of the bed, as far as the wall lets her, she has to make herself uncurl her toes.

It comforts Handong that when she looks back at Bora she seems as eager as she's feeling. There’s a dangerous look in Bora’s eyes, too, which worries her, right before Bora moves closer again, trapping Handong against the wall.

"Dong-ah, we should be careful," Bora is so close she doesn't need to do more than whisper for her to feel her words throughout her body. "We don't want your parents to kick us out on the very first day, do we?"

The meaning of her words is clear, and she's right, of course. But then, instead of leaning back, she tangles herself right back around Handong, her face against her neck.

Handong doesn't even need to see her to know she's smiling when she speaks after she settles into her position.

"So let's enjoy our vacation and sleep a little more."

In the early Wuhan morning light, Handong wonders if she will survive three more mornings like this. 

She's not surprised to find she wouldn't mind if she didn't.

*

"Did you sleep well tonight?" Her mother asks, setting the table for breakfast. Handong reaches out for the plates and passes them to her mother.

"Yeah, we were very tired after the flight so it didn't take us a lot of time to fall asleep," Handong says.

"I'm sorry we didn't have time to prepare a bed for your friend, but I'm sure we can find something for tonight." Her mother sounds apologetic. Handong rushes to reassure her. 

"No, that's totally fine. We can share the bed, mom, don’t worry!”

Her mother, however, doesn’t sound convinced. 

“It is no problem, darling,” her mother insists, “how can we have you share that tiny bed for the both of you?”

Handong feels herself flush at the memory of that morning, with Bora curled around her, and hopes her mother doesn’t notice. 

“We are used to sleeping on the same bed, mom, it’s really fine. We do it in the dorm all the time.”

Her mother looks surprised. “Oh is that so? You must be such close friends.”

Handong tries not to choke with the juice she’s drinking.

*

“Do I even want to know what your mother said during breakfast for you to almost spit all your juice back at her?”

“She was saying that she was going to put a different bed for you, so I told her that we are used to sleeping very closely in the dorm.” Bora makes a noise, understanding, and Handong waits, counting, until she thinks that would be the end of it. Then, Bora turns around after adjusting her hair in front of the mirror and takes a sip of water before prompting Handong to continue. “Then she said, and I quote, that we must be _such close friends_.”

The effect is immediate, all the water spilling on the mirror as Bora looks at her in astonishment, trying very, very hard not to laugh,

Handong smiles at her, feeling very satisfied with herself then, and turns around to finish changing herself.

“Well then, we can get going as soon as you’re ready,” Bora sits on the bed, and looks pointedly at her, “_friend_.”

There is no way Handong can make the smile go away from her face, now,

*

“Okay, what do you want to do today?”

Bora thinks about it a little as they start walking. Handong expects the answer to be to go shopping or to go to downtown to see the touristic area, so she is very surprised with the answer that ends up leaving Bora’s mouth,

“You know, since we are around here… Why don't you show me the places where your were when you were little?”

“Are you sure? It’s not nearly as interesting as you might think it is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bora collides with her softly, bumping her to the side just in time to deliver her final blow, “It’s part of you, Dong-ah. Of course it’s interesting.”

*

Handong tours her around giving her the whole home-school-cram school tour, with Bora listening attentively to all the stories Handong tells her from her childhood, her face softer each time Handong remembers a new one.

She tells her about her friend who brought her her homework when she was sick, and how she got sick after and Handong felt indebted to her forever. And about the time she tried to sneak a stray kitten at school before they made her leave it outside, and how she remembers crying for hours that night. (“For years after that I tried to look for it whenever I walked around, hoping to find them and bringing them home,” she says, and Bora coos, her eyes shining)

And later, when they are sitting on the swings at the park behind Handong’s house, letting the sounds of the busy city wash over them, Bora stands up suddenly. Towering over Handong’s swing, bringing it to a stop.

“You are precious, Dong-ah,” she says with such sincerity that Handong believes it.

Bora doesn’t touch her, knows better than to do that in public, but in times like this, she doesn’t need to.

*

There’s still a long time to lunch, so of course Handong takes her to the nearest shopping mall.

After so much time away, the shops are very different from what Handong remembers. Which is a very convenient excuse for them to check every shop in every corner they can find. 

“Hey, Dong-ah,” Bora calls her from the other end of the perfume aisle, tester in one hand, waving her closer with the other. “Try this,” she says. 

Handong expects her to be handed the little paper strip, coated with perfume. What she gets is the inside of Bora’s arm, smelling soft and floral, right under her nose. When she looks at Bora, surprised, her sneaky smile makes her shiver. Never one to back out of challenges, she takes her arm and presses her nose to it, softly, her eyes never leaving Bora’s as she smells the soft perfume off her skin. 

It’s too daring, too intimate for the middle of an aisle, but it’s easy to forget that when no one knows them here, when there are no managers around to remind them to be careful. 

Time stops, the moment suspended between the way that Bora is looking at her and the way Handong caresses Bora’s wrist (softly, not quite there, keeping her there). There’s a sound, steps coming from a nearby aisle, that shatters the moment for them, Bora getting her arm back as if she had been zapped. 

They wait for the steps to die out, holding their breath, and only when the shop is in silence once again, the voices far away from them, only then do they allow themselves to relax. A laugh escapes Handong’s mouth without her meaning to, and that earns a slap on her arm and a push towards the exit.

They giggle their way through the next store and the next after that. The shop attendants leave them alone for the most part, looking oddly at their foreign whispers and their muffled laughter.

***

They come back with their hands full and bright laughter.

Handong’s mother welcomes them warmly from the kitchen when they arrive, smiling approvingly at Bora’s attempt to speak Chinese. Bora had insisted during lunch to learn something, even if it was something small.

“She’s letting me stay at her home, the very least I can do is know how to greet her.”

Bora had spoken with her head low, almost shameful, and Handong had to stop herself from kissing her there and then. It happens something similar now, with the way Bora is smiling at her after her effort is rewarded.

It’s okay, though. The moment they are alone in Handong’s room, she doesn’t waste any second to crowd Bora against the door and kiss her silly, bags laying forgotten at their feet.

“How did I do? Did I do well?”

“You were fantastic.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” And now she was getting cheeky. Handong pinched her playfully on the side for that making Bora squeal. 

“Everything okay, girls?” Her mother calls from the other room. Bora doesn’t need to understand what was said before she covers her own mouth, muffling her laughter. 

“Everything’s fine, mom. Just playing around.” Handong waits, listening for any kind of noise outside, as Bora moves further into the room, picking up their bags and moving them near the bed.

“It’s so easy to forget that you had to do this all the time. You still do,” Bora’s voice is softer, earnest. When it looks like her mother isn’t going to come and peek into the room, Handong turns around to look at Bora and she sees that same feeling reflected on her eyes.

“I can’t imagine how it must have been, alone in a place where you didn’t fully know the language,” Bora starts to say but Handong stops her before she continues. She knows the story, and honestly, it is not that impressive in her opinion.

“Ah,” she starts to say. But Bora is not going to let her have that today.

“Don’t ‘Ah’ me,” Bora says, poking her in the cheek. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, not seriously anyway. I'm sure that it was way harder for you when you came to Seoul. So you need to know you’re awesome, Dong-ah.”

“But-” _it’s not the same, you do what you gotta do_, Handong wants to say. 

“No buts,” Bora interrupts her, changing her position to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing Handong. “I am older, therefore I am right.”

It is a baseless argument, but she finished it with a kiss on the cheek so Handong takes it. It makes Bora smile more and that is worth more than any victory.

“Now, let’s see what we bought.”

*

The night market is even more magic than Handong remembers. It takes them a while to arrive there, walking with their arms linked, as close as they would dare when going outside, the cool night air making the walk a little easier. People walking around, the food stands full of people getting snacks, and the novelty stands crowded mostly by kids and teenagers.

“Oh my god, Dong-ah,” Bora exclaims, dragging Handong by her arm to the first food stand they pass by, “this looks _so good_! What is that? I don’t care, I want one.”

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, in the warmth. Bora shares a bite of her food and runs to the next stall before Handong has finished chewing. She tries hair decorations on Handong, hands lingering a second too long, and purchases one before Handong can even realize what’s happening. 

They watch people come and go when they sit on the sidewalk for a bit, the conversation never faltering. Bora takes out her phone and starts taking a video of Handong and the anecdote she’s telling, muffling her own laughter as she films, and when she’s done, she starts to take snaps of Handong. 

“Look at you, so handsome,” Bora says cutely. Handong blushes, but poses for her, laughing when Bora shows her her favorites. One of those times, Handong keeps the phone and starts doing the same for Bora, repeating the stuff the art directors yell at them when they are doing photo shoots.

“You look great. Bring your aura more, yes, yes, like that,” Bora laughs, really laughs at that, and Handong captures the moment of pure joy. The pictures turn out blurry but it doesn’t matter, Handong’s sure she’s going to remember Bora’s laugh forever. 

“Okay, okay, stop,” Bora’s out of breath, and when she takes her phone back, her fingers linger on Handong’s hand. “Teach me something else.” 

“Something else? What do you want to learn?” 

“I don’t know,” she takes her hair off her shoulder, revealing her long neck. It feels like a trap, but nothing in this world could have stopped Handong from looking at her then. Bora’s smile gets the tiniest bit wider when she sees. “I just like hearing you speak Chinese.” 

"_Wo de nuwáng,_" Handong says after a bit of thinking and waits for Bora to comment, not sharing the meaning of what she just said. Bora looks at her, her look softening, and repeats, slowly, what Handong just said. Handong helps her work her pronunciation, repeating the words lovingly at her again and again.

"So what did I say?" Bora says after Handong is satisfied with her pronunciation. Handong had been expecting this ever since she came up with something to say. And so she gets up all of a sudden from their spot on the busy sidewalk and bows to a very confused Bora. Handong smiles, unable to help herself, and reaches for one of Bora's hands, watching the confusion in Bora's face increase as Handong discreetly kisses the top of her hand in the middle of the street.

"_Wǒ de nǚwáng,_" Handong says, almost whispering the words to Bora's hand, "my queen." 

It's cheesy and terrible and Handong is sure that she wouldn't have been able to do this if there was anyone else paying attention to them. But even with the crowded street, there's no one looking, at least not until Bora takes her hand back when what Handong just said dawns on her. She makes a high pitched sound, half-delighted, half-embarrassed, and before Handong has time to stand properly, Bora is already by her side, hitting her softly.

"I can't believe you did that," Bora comments, hiding her face into her hands as if that is going to make her fluster go away. "And in the middle of the street!"

"No one was paying attention to us," Handong reasons. And even now after Bora screamed, there's no one around even looking at them. Nevertheless, she takes Bora with her until they find a hidden corner under a streetlight, behind the street shops. A proper real hiding place that Bora follows her to without question. 

She leans against the wall and sighs, hands covering her cheeks, and Handong wonders if maybe she went too far.

"Unnie," Handong says, "are you okay?" 

Bora looks up at her and nods, hands still covering her face. Handong doesn't quite believe it, but as she gets ready to apologize, Bora takes her hands off her face to reach out for Handong's ones. And as Bora gets closer to her, the only thing that Handong sees is the way Bora cannot seem to stop smiling, even if she tries

And under the streetlight, surrounded by everyone and anyone, Handong has no other choice but to kiss Bora there, fingers intertwined, lips meeting in the middle as Bora stands on her toes. 

It's short and wonderful and when it ends Handong finds that the smile is contagious, spreading on her face without her being able to stop it.

***

There’s a message waiting on Handong’s phone that she sees later that night.

“The apartment has been fixed, you can come back and use it for the remaining part of the trip, if you want.” 

Handong stares at it for so long that Bora gets curious, peeking from behind her to read the message too.

“Well,” she says, wrapping her arms around her waist, caging her in, “what do you think?” 

“I don’t know,” Handong answers honestly, “what do you want to do?” 

“I like your family,” Bora says in turn. “I was imagining that we would have some more privacy but this is very nice too.” 

One of her hands sneaks around her waistline until Handong can feel her fingers against her skin, tickling and Handong’s hand jumps to stop her. _This is how it begins_. Bora laughs at her reaction and turns her hand around, playing with Handong’s fingers. Handong plays along, laughing with her, fingers playing together as the stay tangled around each other. 

Soon enough the phone ends forgotten on the bed as they fool around, playful and kissing each other, more teasing than romantic.

“I’m having fun here,” Bora says, breathless from the kisses and the laughs and the game, laying beside her and it’s the most beautiful thing Handong has seen. “And there’s always the next vacation.”

And with the way she says it, Handong can’t do anything else but agree.

***

Handong remembers the first time she got drunk and she specially remembers the morning after, hungover and painful and too bright to live in.

When Handong wakes the next morning, it feels very much like that all over again. It doesn't matter that they did not drink a drop of alcohol, not when the feeling of having to get up feels painful. Her body complains when she stretches, even her cheeks betray her when she yawns but she feels Bora move against her and she remembers that the reason why her cheeks hurt so much it’s because she was smiling _so much_ yesterday.

All of a sudden, the sun doesn’t feel painful at all.

Bora stirs just as Handong contemplates what are their options for the day and groans as she stretches too.

“I can feel you thinking right now,” Bora mumbles, finding a comfortable position to peek at Handong from. When Handong tries to deny that, before she even gets to open her mouth, Bora’s hand is already on top of it, shushing her. “No thinking. Too early for thinking.”

“No thinking,” Handong repeats, voice slightly muffled from Bora’s fingers on her face. It’s only when she says that that Bora feels satisfied enough to put her hand away.

It’s a little later when they wake up again, the sun not as directly in their face when they do so. Handong’s body still aches when she stretches but her head is clearer more rested. 

“Do we have to get up? It’s so nice in here,” Bora whispers her words against the back of Handong’s neck. She can feel her arm squeezing around her waist, the first clue about them moving in that time.

Her idea sounds tempting. Staying in bed, just for a little while. It’s such a good idea. Then Handong remembers all the things she wanted to show her, all the places she wanted them to visit, and the words leave her mouth before she can stop them.

“What about our plans?”

Bora whines, high and cute, and hugs Handong tighter. She is clearly displeased with Handong’s question, but all Handong can think of is how can she get her to do that again.

“No plans, just sleeping.” She says, mouthing the words against Handong, shushing any protests Handong might have before they come alive. “It has been so long since we have been able to just rest. We deserve to rest, don’t we?”

Handong doesn’t need much convincing after that. She pretends to think about it for a little while, and Bora pokes at her side, making her laugh. Making Handong turn around and face her. 

It’s impossible to keep the poker face when Bora looks at her _like that_, and she knows, too, when she giggles the moment Handong turns around in her arms.

There’s a brief moment where Handong wishes they were not at her house, where her parents were not a wall away. Of pondering about the rest of things they never have enough time to do properly. Bora catches that and Handong can see the split second she _thinks_ about that, too.

It’s tempting.

It’s impossible.

Bora moves impossibly closer and when they _kiss_ Handong has to hold her. Make sure she’s there. That she doesn’t move. That she doesn’t go away.

Bora’s lips are warm and soft and they let her in easily. She knows them by heart by now but that doesn’t stop the feeling in her stomach to stop. Bora’s fingers in her hair keep her close even when breathing seems necessary to survive. 

There’s a moment there, delicate between them. 

_If they were alone, maybe._

Bora kisses her again, lips closed but no less intense. Kisses her lips and her nose and her forehead, She takes her time to kiss all the way down to her neck, where she hides her face, finding a good position to rest,

“That is a great argument, I am convinced,” Handong says, in the end, feeling more than hearing Bora’s snort at that.

***

“Oh my god, that toy elephant is so _cute_,” Bora exclaims, pointing to it for Handong to see. “Come with me, I am going to try to get her home.”

Handong laughs, “Her?” She asks, but follows Bora dutifully before losing her in the midst of the crowd. The fair has just opened but there’s already a sea of people already there. It’s a popular festival these days, with the games and the fireworks closer to midnight, so Handong isn’t all that surprised. It’s full of families with their kids and groups of kids without their family, and although she can’t see them in the area where they are now, Handong is sure that there are a lot of couples around, finding privacy where they can just to have a couple of stolen moments together. She knows the feeling well. 

Bora is already paying by the time Handong gets there and it doesn’t go unnoticed that she has managed to get the guy on the booth understand her. There’s a swell of pride inside Handong but saves the feeling for later. Bora turns around, searching for her briefly, before positioning herself to throw.

It’s an easy enough aiming game if you know the trick. Easy enough to get one of the cheap presents, satisfying enough for kids to get. But Bora has set her eyes on the _big_ elephant stuffed toy that, looking upon it now, Handong is not even sure that she is going to be able to take back with them. 

Bora is good, throwing all but two cans on the display with her first two shots. Handong watches her aim for the small space between the two of them, and it’s good and doable, even if a little difficult. 

They share a look and Handong holds her breath when she’s about to throw. The moment feels too long and it’s disappointing when the ball goes too far and manages to not touch any of the cans. The stall owner laughs and claps, congratulating Bora on her shot, and points her to the presents she can choose. She’s pretty sure that Bora doesn’t actually understand the words the man is saying but she nods along and watches to the area he points to with a sad look on her face. 

“You did good,” Handong says, walking up to her. It was difficult and these games are not done to be won, not like that, but Handong is not going to say that. It is not what she needs to hear now. 

“Not good enough, Priscilla is going to have to stay here,” she pouts exaggeratedly. Her eyes stray to the big plush hanging over them, and Handong is able to see how truly disappointed she is for not being able to get the toy before she composes herself, looking back to the selection of prizes she’s allowed to choose from.

_She gave her a name_ is all Handong can think about.

“Is there something you want?” She asks Handong after a little looking around. There are no substitutes for _Priscilla_, Handong notes when she looks around herself, and while she appreciates Bora’s gesture, another idea pops in Handong’s mind.

“Do you want me to try?” 

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. Bora turns around, looking at her as if she doesn’t quite believe what she’s hearing. Like the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“Would you?” is all she needs to say for Handong to turn around to the man, and convince him to give them another try. 

He offers them two options. 

“He says that we can start over and get three tries or,” Handong relays after talking with him. Bora is nervous and nudges her to go on when she pauses for effect, “_or_ get one more try as it is now.”

Bora looks at the two pieces still up, the difficult throw. Handong sees her consider it, knowing that she doesn’t want to throw the money away. 

“I think I can do it in one,” Handong offers Bora quietly. Bora considers for a quick second and nods, finding one of Handong’s hands and squeezing it softly. Handong nods too, confirming, and turns around to the man in the stall. 

He hands her the ball, and stands to look at her as she positions herself to shoot. Handong can feel Bora looking at her, knows she’s probably as nervous as she feels, but tries to not let it affect her. It is not an impossible shot, she just needs to concentrate. 

She takes a deep breath and dares to look at Bora.

_Good luck_

She shoots.

*

“Oh my god it was _so cool_, you were so cool, Dong-ah!”

Handong’s fingers still tremble slightly. The stall is so far away they can’t see it anymore, and the only proof that what just happened is real is the really, really big elephant plushie — Priscilla, her mind corrects — that Bora carries under her arm. She can still hear the echo of Bora’s scream when she saw both cans fall off, the ball grazing both of them enough to tumble down the shelf.

It’s Bora’s other arm, the one not holding Priscilla, the one that brings her back to the present. She hooks her arm with Handong and keeps her walking beside her. “It was like straight out of a movie, you were there, so serious! My hero! And that guy was so confident you were not going to get to hit them!”

Handong can’t help but laugh, the daze dissolving in the presence of Bora hiding her smile behind Priscilla’s head, her whole face being swallowed by it.

*

It’s way later, when they are back home, safe inside Handong’s room, that she thinks of asking her about the logistics of it.

Specifically, the sight of Bora in her bed, soft pajamas on, curled around Priscilla, leaving little space on the twin bed for Handong to sit on.

“Have you thought how are you going to bring Priscilla back home?” 

Bora looks at her from her phone and proceeds to look at Priscilla, just taking in how she would probably need a seat all by herself on the plane. When Bora looks at her again, she looks kind of guilty, and Handong can’t help but laugh even with the late hour.

“Don’t laugh at me, it was love at first sight, I wasn’t worrying about that when I saw her!”

Bora sits up and Handong takes that moment to sit beside her, patting Priscilla’s head in the process. “See, you like her too!”

“I do,” Handong admits, “she’s really cute.” 

Bora nods. She gets comfortable, hugging Priscilla close and leaning her head on Handong’s shoulder. They are in silence for a while, the excitement of the night wearing Handong off until she almost falls asleep. 

“Maybe she could stay here,” Bora says, after a while. It’s unsure, almost a whisper, but loud enough for Handong to hear. 

She thinks about it. About what it means for Bora to leave her here, in Handong’s home. Far away from where they both currently live, but where she’ll be safe. But also somewhere she might visit in the future.

“Are you sure you don’t want to send her back?” Handong offers, “I’m sure my parents can send her in a box from the post office.”

There is no doubt in Handong’s mind when Bora answers, her voice firm and unwavering.

“If she stays here, we can see her the next time we come.”

***

(Handong wakes up before Bora and gets to see her cuddling the plushie, smiling through her sleep. She gets up and goes to the bathroom before she does something dumb like kissing her forehead and waking her up to tell her how much she loves her.)

***

It doesn’t matter how many times they travel, packing to go back is always a weirdly sad experience.

She thought she didn't miss home as much because he had gotten used to living in Seoul and had found herself a new small family in her group. But actually being here and having to leave is harder than Handong thought it would be. 

“I could go back and tell them that you are sick,” Bora says, sneaking her arms around Handong, surprising her with her offer. “You could probably get an extra week here.”

“Is it really that obvious?”

“You have been looking at the wall for ten minutes straight,” she says instead, but it is answer enough. No wall pattern is that interesting.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go,” Handong explains, making a space on the bed to sit, tapping the space beside her for Bora to sit. She does, of course, but instead of laying her head on Handong’s shoulder, she wraps her arm around her and moves Handong closer until she’s the one laying her head on Bora’s shoulder. 

It feels safe once she’s adjusted her position, curled over Bora. Her hand playing with the ends of Handong’s hair, distracting and relaxing all the same. Mostly distracting. “I don’t want to lose this,” she says in the end.

“Dong-ah,” Bora coos, squeezing her tighter in a half hug. “I’m going to miss this too,” she admits, but doesn’t stop caressing her head. 

“Maybe we can both pretend to be ill,” Handong says, pitifully, and Bora laughs. “Unnie will probably come get us but by the time she arrives here we can escape.”

“I love that plan,” she says, laugh coloring her voice. Handong can imagine her smile and she can’t help but smile too. They sigh, almost in unison. 

It’s perfect.

*

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot about this,” Bora exclaims. The are both finishing packing up, making sure that everything that they bought — everything but Priscilla, of course — has been accounted for. Handong is fighting with her own suitcase when she sees Bora jumping and running to her. “Close your eyes!”

“What?” 

“Close your eyes,” Bora insists, hands behind her, _clearly_ hiding something, definitely excited about it. The excitement is contagious, so of course Handong does as she says, even if she doesn’t let go of the half closed suitcase. 

She waits with her eyes closed through the sound of rustling in front of her, and then some more until she feels Bora’s hands reaching around the back of her neck. 

By the time Bora lets her open her eyes, Handong’s hands are already on the new chain hanging off her neck, fingers tangling with Bora’s briefly as she touches the pendant. “That’s cheating!” she laughs. 

It’s a long chain, she notices, longer than the usual necklace. Near to her heart, perfect for wearing under everything without being noticed. And hanging from it, a couple of green hearts carved in some kind of green stone. A beautiful work, for sure, even if it feels incomplete. 

At least until she looks up to see the very same necklace hanging from Bora’s neck. 

“Do you like it?” Handong is too stunned to talk, so she nods. Several times so Bora knows she means it. “And look,” she says, picking up the pendant from Handong’s hand and bringing it closer to the one on her neck, “when put together, they make up a four leaf clover!”

“Wha-… Wh-… I-,” There are too many questions piling up in Handong’s head, she’s not able to articulate them fast enough. Some of that must show on her face because Bora laughs and then starts to explain.

“The other day, when you went to the bathroom for a moment at the mall. There was this cute artisan store and they had these on display, and thought they would make a cute gift,” Bora’s voice gets lower and lower the more she talks, growing embarrassed at the gesture and there is no force in the word strong enough that would be able to stop Handong from kissing her.

Her lips catch the rest of Bora’s explanation, and Handong drinks them all.

Packing can wait.

*

Farewells have never been Handong’s strongest suit. It doesn’t matter how many times she does it, it always feels like part of herself is staying with her parents whenever she parts ways with them.

Just like when they picked them up, they drive them there with enough time to walk them to the security control and have a proper goodbye.

“Have a safe flight,” her mother says, “let us know when you get there.” 

Handong nods, smiling, her mother’s words echoing Minji’s wishes at the start of the trip. “I’ll call you when we get to the dorm,” she says in the end. She walks up to her and hugs her, basking in it. 

Her father is already waiting for her, arms open and ready. He just wishes her goodbye when Handong kisses his cheek, but that is enough to make her teary, any possible word she had to say getting caught in her throat.

She sees Handong’s mother hugging Bora too and Handong allows herself to enjoy the sight. Allows herself a moment of wishful thinking, imagining that her mother hugs Bora as if she were part of the family too.

The thought, though, is interrupted when Bora speaks.

“Thank you for having us,” she says, in Chinese. Her mother looks pleasantly surprised and Handong is very, very proud. 

“You’re more than welcome to come back,” her mother answers, smiling and bowing slightly. “Our daughter’s family is our family too, and for that you will always be welcome.” Her father, beside her, nods in agreement.

She says that looking at Handong directly but it’s not until Handong is relaying the message to Bora herself that the _actual_ meaning seeps in. They are already on the queue for the security check by then and her mother is nowhere near but Handong has no doubt about it.

Bora seems to have arrived to the same conclusion, stopping on her tracks when it dawns on her.

“Did she just-” she starts, not daring to finish the sentence out loud.

Handong understands anyway. “I think she just did,” she replies faintly, looking at her parents go, disappearing into the crowd.

***

Coming back to the dorm feels like coming from another universe.

By the time the door closes behind them, Siyeon is already there hugging Bora, and twirling her around in a hug.

Not much later, Yoohyeon and Gahyeon come out of their rooms to welcome them too and Handong hugs all of them as if she hasn’t seen them in ages. It hasn’t been more than a few days, but it definitely doesn’t feel like that. 

“Are we the last to come back?” Bora asks already on her way to the couch, dragging Gahyeon with her. 

Handong places her suitcase beside Bora’s on the side of the entrance and goes to join the small pile of limbs that is starting to form around the couch. Yoohyeon giggles when she’s pulled down there. It’s Siyeon who answers from somewhere inside the pile, her voice slightly strangled from the weird position. 

“Minji-unnie will come back later than you, I think. But Yoobin-ah just went out to get us some dinner. She will be back in a bit.”

“She went to get dinner for all of us?” 

“We played a game and she lost,” Yoohyeon says as an explanation, avoiding Handong’s eyes when she looks at her. Gahyeon and Siyeon nod along, but none offer more information. Bora turns around to look at her and yeah, this is not the kind of information they want the details of.

They settle in silence, feeling the time until they start complaining about elbows in wrong places. But for now, Handong closes her eyes and lets the feeling of her other family warm her. 

It is good to be back.

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thank you to M for the handholding, and believing I could do it when I didn't, and R and T for their invaluable help for making this good.
> 
> If you want some visual, [these pictures](http://twitter.com/hf_dreamcatcher/status/1128197816860303361) were a good reference for the mood of the fic.
> 
> ♥


End file.
